The Game
by Indubitably Cynical
Summary: An AU: Quinn, star of a popular high school television show, dares her co-star Puck to seduce their new castmate Rachel. He never expected to fall for her. Dangerous Liaisons adaptation.
1. Chapter 1

I'm a fanfic writer who loved the concept but hated the execution of Cruel Intentions. So it was only a matter of time before I wrote my own adaptation of Dangerous Liaisons. I hope other people enjoy! Reviews appreciated.

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"You've made the headlines again."

He caught the magazine as Quinn tossed it, and watched as she put her massive sunglasses back on. His eyes scanned the brief write-up; it was obviously speculating that he was attached to Brittany Ashford, because there was a blown-up photo of them kissing right in the center of the page. Sixteen-year-old Brittany was a Nickelodeon starlet, and it was a perfectly reasonable assumption that they were dating, but Puck still couldn't help being slightly put-off. While he was willing to hook up with idiotic, insipid girls, he was certainly not going to date them, and resented that the general public would think as much.

"Don't they know you well enough by now to not assume that you're dating someone just because you're sucking her face in public?" Quinn asked casually, sitting up in the pool-side lounge chair in order to reach her bottle of sunscreen.

"Apparently not," Puck replied, sliding into the neighboring lounge chair and dropping the magazine onto the floor. "Perhaps Brittany's rep has been feeding the journalists falsehoods?"

Quinn snorted. "Did you just bang her because you're jealous that her boyfriend Mike was named sexiest teen by a _single _magazine this summer instead of you?"

Puck snatched the sunscreen from her as she held it out for him. "Maybe. Even though he only won because he doesn't have my…reputation." He opened the sunscreen, squirted some onto his hand and gestured for her to turn onto her stomach. She complied and he proceeded to slather it onto her bare back.

"Kind of a slight, though, isn't it? Because you're a known heartbreaker and partier, the press prefers the cuddly Asian. Still, I'd say your revenge was pretty thorough."

"It always is," Puck replied, as the application of sunscreen became a massage. His friend's shoulders rolled appreciatively under his hands. "So, I hear Finn broke up with you."

She stiffened. "Who told you that?"

"I have my sources," he said wickedly as his hands drifted under the bikini strap along her back. "Wonder what the press'll have to say about that?"

"As long as it doesn't taint my reputation as TV's young sweetheart, I don't really care," she asserted, although her tone of voice was frustrated. "But seriously. I did everything I could to make that relationship work, and it just meant nothing to him."

"I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure there's more to trying to make a relationship work than being ready to suck dick at a moment's notice."

She sighed. "To add insult to injury, he's fallen for another girl."

"Does this girl travel in our circles, or is she an unknown?" At this point he was massaging her lower back, his hands getting closer and closer to her rear.

"As of this fall, she's going to be travelling in our circles," Quinn said bitterly, shifting her body so his hands did in fact brush against her swimsuit-clad tush.

"Oh, no way! Rachel Berry?" The famous former-child star was going to be joining their cast for the next season.

Quinn practically snarled. "He doesn't know what he's missing, if you ask me."

"Well, she's talented, he's talented. It works. Besides, she's _hot_." He finally cupped her ass appreciatively for a moment, before withdrawing. She ignored it, as usual.

"Hang on a minute," Quinn said, flipping over onto her back again and stretching her long legs down the length of the chair. ""Do you mean, she's hot enough to fuck?"

He sat down in his own lounge chair next to hers, engaging his stomach muscles as he went, because he knew Quinn was looking. She was always looking. "Maybe she's hot enough, but I don't see why it would be any fun. She's new to this world, wouldn't stand a chance against my charms. Besides, I'm moving on to adult ladies."

"Oh, but _Brittany_ you'll boink?" she asked scathingly. "There's a fine example of sophistication and wit in a young lady."

"That was personal. I'm not going to seduce Rachel just because you're bitter that Finn fell for her." He reached into the pocket of his swimming trunks and pulled out a small case.

Quinn sighed dramatically. "You're going to pass on a chance to wreck the brat's reputation? You just know she's going to be the writers' new wet dream, and none of us will get any air time because of it."

Puck laughed, opening the case, pulling out his bowl and the little bag of very expensive weed. "So basically, you're feeling threatened? Your status as America's hottest jail-bait is in jeopardy?" He prodded some weed into the bowl, well aware of her eyes fixating on the process.

"I'm seventeen," she reminded him, avoiding the question.

"And I'm sure there are men counting down the days on their calendars till you turn eighteen."

"Likewise."

He chose not to acknowledge her comment, although he did smile a little. He pulled out the lighter and took a hit. "Anyway, did you hear that she's postponing Amherst to _try out_ acting? And she can sing, apparently." he said once he exhaled the lungful of smoke. Passed her the bowl, and she finally offered him a smile.

"I'm sure she's a delight," Quinn droned sarcastically. He watched her lips press against the tip, watched her inhale, eyes closed.

"Daddy's girl, theater ace, straight As, perfect on paper. And about as pretty as you."

"She's totally out of your league, Puckerman. I mean, Amherst? We and our GEDs are part of the uneducated masses to people like her."

"No one's out of my league."

She removed her sunglasses again, and her hazel eyes swept over his body. "_I_ am," she purred, subtly sliding her tongue along the inside of her teeth as he handed the bowl to her. "I thought I made that clear three years ago."

He fixed her with his most smoldering gaze. "You're not out of my league. You just enjoy my company too much to let yourself sleep with me."

Her eyes flashed for a nanosecond before she became completely unreadable again. For a long moment, they sat in silence, him staring at her as she smoked. "Okay, then," she said dismissively, sitting back in her chair again. "If you agree to, and succeed in screwing and ruining this Rachel Berry, you can screw me."

All witty responses froze in Puck's throat. How was he supposed to answer that? "Wh—what makes you think I'd want to screw you?"

She offered him a sociopathic little chuckle. "Puck, you've been wanting to screw me ever since we filmed our first episode. Ever since you were a _virgin_."

"That's not true," he stammered, taking a hit, then coughing on it. "And it's not like you haven't been leading me on for all that time anyway," he managed when he recovered.

Quinn shrugged. "If you say so. Then forget I said anything."

"Wait. Wait wait wait. Are you serious? It'd be that easy to get you in bed?"

She took the bowl from him. "Seducing Rachel Berry is going to be far from easy, contrary to what you seem to think." She inhaled, closing her eyes as she usually did as she sucked the smoke into her lungs.

He thought about it. _Really _thought about it. Sleeping with Quinn would be crossing a big black line that had been drawn in the sand three years ago. Oh, they flirted, they touched, they verbally fornicated, but actual sex would change things between them in a way he both wanted so badly and yet feared more than anything.

"No strings attached?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, I don't have to propose to you or anything, right? I know how you are about your virginity and all."

She looked at him, somehow expressing condescension without altering her face at all. "No strings attached. You know I'm not the sentimental type, I just have an image to uphold as the most family-friendly face on television." She passed him his bowl. "Every other actress our age is languishing between stardom and notoriety. I intend to escape that cliché."

"Babe, you _are _that cliché. You just haven't been caught yet."

"And I won't be." She put her sunglasses back on. "But it's up to you to make innocent, perfect little Rachel Berry as infamous as they get."

He took another hit. Thought of popping Quinn Fabray's cherry. "You can count on it."


	2. Chapter 2

"You're not singing along."

Rachel snapped out of her daze at the accusation in Kurt's sharp voice. "Come Sail Away" was blaring on the car's radio, and he was looking at her expectantly. The two of them usually shrieked out the lyrics whenever they heard songs like this one, Kurt being surprisingly good at hitting the high notes, but Rachel had barely noticed the song come on.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I'm just—I'm a little nervous."

"Rachel Berry has never been stage-fright in her life," Kurt declared, reaching out and turning down the volume of the radio. "She'd better not start now."

She bit her lip, nonetheless appreciating her best friend's unwavering confidence in her. "This anxiety is far from performance-related. Do you realize the kind of stars with whom I'm now going to be interacting? Quinn Fabray is the youngest Emmy nominee in history. My resumé can't even begin to compete with that."

"Your resumé is as long as my torso. You've been a star for ten years, Rachel. You don't need to worry about Fabray and her alleged talent."

As they pulled into a parking spot, Rachel adjusted her headband carefully in the rearview mirror. "Alleged talent? The academy has recognized her as a superior artist of her craft. There's nothing alleged about it."

Kurt turned off the engine and looked candidly at her. "Her character got a rape story line this past season. That's critic fodder. She'd have to be terrible in order to not get a nod for that."

"You think?"

"I think you can act the thongs off of them all. Of course I'm just a little biased."

She laughed, put her hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, Kurt." She took a few deep breaths. "This is such an opportunity."

"Playing Noah Puckerman's brand new stepsister? Of course! Just don't fall in love with him, I hear he's _lethal_ with the ladies. With good reason, I know." Rachel knew he was remembering one of the many scenes shoehorned into the show just to give Puckerman's character Weston more shirtless time. Kurt had absolutely gone nuts when Weston had joined the swim team in season two, because it meant regular exposure to Puckerman's abs.

"I have no intention of becoming infatuated with such a notorious—" she tried to think of a word that wasn't too rude, but could still get her point across.

"Man-slut?" Kurt finished for her after a moment's pause. "He seduced the skirt off of Brittany Ashford, and now she and Mike are no longer the multi-racial golden couple of teenaged romances."

"It doesn't matter. I'm sure _Noah _and I will be engaging in a platonic, professional, business relationship only. I'm too young to be dating anyway."

"Sweetie, every other eighteen-year-old girl on the planet would disagree with you. And so would those journalists. You know they're just _waiting _for you to get yourself knocked up."

"Do you think the fame thing is going to get worse? Now that I'm starring on "Four Years" with the press' favorite teenagers?"

"It's going to get much worse, but it's nothing you can't handle. Just…well, do what the press don't want you to do, and you'll be fine."

"So no sex, drugs or dating?" she joked.

"That's my girl."

Kurt escorted her to the front of the building, gave her a hug, and then left. She felt very small as she entered the office building and made her way to the seventh floor.

"Rachel!" a loud voice sounded over the noise when she got to her destination. She smiled broadly as she instantly recognized Will Schuester, the executive producer. He had been present at her final call-back audition. "Everyone, the lady of the hour!"

She looked around frantically, recognizing the seven main cast members of "Four Years." Finn Hudson, Mercedes Jones, Tina Cohen-Chang, Matt Rutherford, Santana Lopez. Quinn Fabray. Noah Puckerman. These teenagers were different from her. She had grown up in the spotlight, yes, but her most recent role had been her playing a thirteen-year-old. She was still a child-star in the eyes of the world.

The first thing offered to her by the cast was a single catcall, and she turned to its initiator.

Noah Puckerman.

"Calm down, guys," Mr. Schuester commanded, as whistles from the men followed the catcall. "What did I say about making Rachel feel as comfortable as possible?"

"You're even prettier in person," she heard, and she flipped around to find Finn Hudson standing right behind her and looking shyly at the ground. That broke her out of her reverie instantly, perhaps because it was a glimpse of just how normal they all actually were. The fact that Finn could admire a girl like her for her physical appearance…

"Way to 'make her comfortable', Finn," Mercedes blared from across the room. The others laughed.

"She probably gets it all the time."

Rachel immediately fixed her eyes on _this_ speaker. Noah Puckerman made his way across the room, subtle swagger to his gait and a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Right?"

She found herself completely speechless. How did one respond to a comment like that, especially from the country's hottest young stud?

"Not as often as you might think," she finally managed. "The world knows me as the little girl who played Batman's illegitimate daughter in the highest domestic-grossing film of all time, and I imagine it's a formidable challenge for most people to adjust to the idea of me being—an adult?"

He had a half-smile that was more of a smirk than anything, but it made something twinge in her stomach despite everything she had ever heard about this boy. "They don't know what they're missing, 'cause you're about the furthest thing from a little girl I've ever seen."

Her face flushed red. "You must be Noah." She tried to be as cold as possible. She would not be one of the countless people to fall for him.

"I go by Puck," he said, extending his hand.

She refused to shake it. "I don't approve of nicknames. They're juvenile."

There was dead silence in the room, as Rachel noticed that Mr. Schuester had left the kids to their own devices. The temperature dropped about twelve degrees. She was proud of herself.

"Right then, _Rach_," he replied, retracting his hand.

"And I know exactly who and what you are," she continued, ignoring his blatant slight on her and relieved that she appeared to be regaining some of her characteristic boldness. "And what you do to respectable young women such as myself."

His eyes widened, as a general "ooh," sounded throughout the room.

"I just thought I'd take the moment to advise you not to waste your time, and to establish where you stand with me." She folded her arms to emphasize her point.

Mercedes began applauding. Tina and Santana joined in.

"It's about _time_ someone stuck it to his ego," Mercedes said, approaching her and linking their arms together. "You know, I think we're gonna be great friends."

Rachel smiled as broadly as she was capable of. "I'm relieved to hear it." They began walking to the refreshment table, away from the two boys.

But in spite of herself she turned back to exchange a glance with Noah "Puck" Puckerman, and the predatory sneer on his face communicated graphically to her that they were far from finished.

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Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, it means a lot to me, especially when people comment on how I'm doing with maintaining the characters' canon personalities. I would like to know, for the purposes of planning future chapters, whether too many people would drop out if I changed the rating to M. I would totally understand if people were uncomfortable with it. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

So real life grabbed me by the hair and totally sidelined my writing, but I'm back and re-inspired to finish this story, mostly because of your AWESOME reviews. (I hope there will still be people reading after this unfortunate, obnoxious wait for chapter 3…) This fic will be rated M as of chapter 6 or so, but for now I'm going to keep it rated T.

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It was a long, educational afternoon for Rachel as she lounged around a conference room with her four female cast-mates, a bowl of onion dip, and a plate of fruit. Mercedes did a lot of talking, Tina a little, Santana somewhere in between, while Quinn, after briefly introducing herself, sat in a chair somewhat removed from the rest of them and watched.

By the time Mercedes and Santana and Tina had narrowed their conversation down to discussion of the coming season—scripts for the first episode were being sent to them in a few days—Quinn finally moved.

"So you seem like a nice enough girl, Rachel." The other three girls instantly fell silent, letting Rachel know exactly who was in charge around here. "And from what I hear you'll be perfectly capable of following our rules."

Something nervous fluttered in Rachel's chest. Rules?

"Oh don't worry," Santana assured her, touching her on the shoulder gently. "They're easy."

Quinn sent Santana a cold look that Rachel wasn't sure she understood. "For _some_ of us," Quinn responded scathingly, before turning back to Rachel. "We are role-models for America's teenaged girls. Parents around the country trust us. You've noticed that no female cast member of this show has ever been in a credible tabloid for anything?"

She rose to her feet and began approaching Rachel, who suddenly felt a bit crowded. "I—I guess not. But what have I ever done to warrant your concern that I will not be among the most upstanding of all of us?"

For a moment, Quinn simply blinked, as though attempting to work through Rachel's sentence. "Well, we don't really know, do we? I bet you never guessed that Santana here," she gestured violently to the other girl, "slept with our very own Puck, did you?"

Santana gasped and looked at Quinn, hurt and obviously betrayed. Quinn ignored her. "We covered it up, but it was difficult. Whatever you are accustomed to doing on your own time, Rachel Berry, you are now required to follow our rules. Nothing nasty in the press, no dating, no drinking. We have a collective reputation to uphold."

"Of course," Rachel breathed. "Or did you not notice the way I handled Noah? Believe me, I am more than capable of resisting the temptations people our age face."

Quinn stepped closer to her, until she could feel her breath on her face. "And if you can't?" she said quietly enough that Rachel could hardly hear, "don't you dare get caught."

Then she backed away and offered a saccharine smile that made Rachel's skin instantly crawl. "Welcome to the cast, then."

She turned around, picked up a handbag that looked like it cost more than three hundred dollars, and departed without so much as a farewell.

Tina instantly jumped up to comfort Santana the moment Quinn had left the room, and Mercedes sighed. "Sorry about that. She takes herself waaaaay too seriously, if you ask me."

"She's Catholic, her parents are fanatics, or something," Tina piped up. Rachel had been shocked to discover that the girl who played queen-bee bitch Chantel was a soft-spoken, kind, but very shy girl. "She expects the same from us."

"Which is cool and all, because pretty much all the other actresses our age are cokeheads or skanks or both," Mercedes admitted, "it just gets a bit intense."

Rachel nodded absently, looked at Santana, who was near tears. "You slept with Noah, then?"

Santana glared at her. "Go on, judge me, new girl."

"I'm not, I'm not. I just—I understand. He's aesthetically pleasing, definitely. My friend Kurt is absolutely infatuated with him."

"Kurt? As in, a dude?" Mercedes asked, raised eyebrows punctuating her question.

"Yeah," Rachel said boldly, daring anyone to comment.

"I'm _so_ jealous," Mercedes exclaimed. "I've always wanted a gay BFF."

"It's really fantastic, having him around," Rachel said, relieved that none of the girls were casting judgments about her friend.

"You should bring him in here. The more the merrier, and we don't have enough non-actor friends."

"Are you kidding? Quinn would _absolutely _flip," Santana countered.

A throb of anger struck Rachel. "Oh really?"

"She's the only homophobe in the business," Tina explained.

Rachel folded her arms. "Well, if I may speak freely," which of course she always did, so it was less a question than a disclaimer, "I'm finding it a rather formidable challenge to even attempt to understand Quinn Fabray."

"After a while, you will. She just takes some getting used to if you're going to be as close to her as we are," said Santana.

Much later, Rachel found herself wondering if it would be worth getting close to someone like Quinn. It was possible she didn't have a choice, but she certainly had her reservations. By her judgment, Quinn seemed just as dangerous as Noah.

--

"Who does that little whore think she is?" Puck demanded.

Quinn sat down across from him and signaled the waiter. "Hello to you too, Gaston," she said before the waiter scampered up to the table, clearly recognizing her. "Just a coffee and a slice of crumb-cake, please," she said politely, ignoring the guy's smitten gaze.

"Seriously. I barely say hi to her and she's up my ass about shit she's only heard through gossip."

"To be fair, her preconceived notions were a hundred and ten percent accurate. If she were slightly less uptight, I think I'd like her."

In spite of his foul mood, Puck couldn't help but laugh. "You don't like anyone."

"And you do?"

The waiter returned immediately, and this time Quinn locked eyes with him and offered her broadest thousand-watt smile. "Thanks."

He nodded and took off. Puck laughed again. "Have you ever met a guy who didn't—"

"Not for the past four years or so." She pulled out a tube of mascara and briefly worked on her eyelashes, and Puck wondered how she could possibly pull it off without a mirror. He simply watched, taking in her beauty and thinking of the countless times he had imagined boning her. Now that that was an impending occurrence, _imagining _had inexplicably lost some of its appeal.

Or maybe it was just the anticipation of the unexpected challenge Rachel was going to provide.

"So do you have a plan?" Quinn asked when she was finished with the mascara, taking the cup of coffee in her hands, but not drinking it.

"Actually, I do."

"Oh really? Care to share?"

He leaned forward, dropped his voice, smiled crookedly. "I'm going to play Weston as being attracted to his new stepsister, as played by Miss Berry. It's kinky enough that the fan base will go for it, and the writers will have no choice but to go that route."

Her finger traced the rim of her mug as she arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Wow. I never thought I'd give you credit for anything, but that's _genius_."

"I know, right? The sexual tension will be too much for her to handle. And then," he paused dramatically, "I'll prove that she's no better than any other chick her age."

Quinn finally took a sip of her coffee. "You're even hotter than usual when you're evil."

"I know."


End file.
